


The Fearful Symmetry

by lily_zen



Category: Shadowrun
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:58:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lily_zen/pseuds/lily_zen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaoru is a shadowrunner with an enigmatic past, and an obsession. She convinces a group of runners to take on a job she knows is dangerous in order to further her vendetta, but when things start going south she's faced with a tough decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Fearful Symmetry

Part One

 

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairing: OFC/OMC

Rating: M

Warning: questionable moral/ethical choices, violence

Archive: Ask

 

Author: Lily Zen

\---

Notes: Loosely set in the Shadowrun world. I’m not super familiar with the rules, so this is more character focused, not quite so game-driven. “Hai” is Japanese for yes, but culturally it is considered impolite to say ‘no,’ so even if they mean no, oftentimes they will say ‘hai.’ It all depends on the context. “Moshi moshi” is how the Japanese greet people when they answer the phone. “Ja mata ne” and “ja ne” are both Japanese farewells. ‘Ja mata ne’ is like saying “see you later,” while ‘ja ne’ is more casual like a simple “see you.”

Disclaimer: Shadowrun is not mine. This world and its rules are not my creations. However, the characters are. Don’t make me stab you for using them without my permission. The opening poem, The Tyger, is written by William Blake.

\---

The Tyger

Tiger, tiger, burning bright

in the forests of the night,

what immortal hand or eye

could frame thy fearful symmetry?

 

In what distant deeps or skies

burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare seize the fire?

 

And what shoulder, and what art

could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

what dread hand and what dread feet?

 

What the hammer? What the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? What dread grasp

dare its deadly terrors clasp?

 

When the stars threw down their spears

and water’d heaven with their tears,

did He smile His work to see?

Did He who made the lamb make thee?

 

Tiger, tiger, burning bright

in the forests of the night,

what immortal hand or eye

dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

\--William Blake

\---

She’d never really stopped to wonder before if she was doing the right thing. That wasn’t Kaoru’s way. Long ago, she had set a goal for herself, and whispered, “By any means necessary.” The goal, however, was a shining light in the distance, and it seemed that for every step she took towards it another obstacle blocked her path. Honor spurred her onwards, driving her when it seemed that the darkness might swallow her up. She wasn’t swimming in the filth of the world, she was submerged in it; it was pouring out of her eyes and ears, her nose and mouth.

As she stared at the child’s terrified eyes, Kaoru finally had to stop and wonder if maybe the end did not justify the means after all.

\---

                The door slid open with a quiet whoosh as she keyed in the code, and Kaoru slithered into her tiny apartment. Her window viewer greeted her, displaying a chipper view of false blue sky and sunshine. Outside there was no sunshine, not so that you’d notice it anyway. It was hidden away behind the smog in the sky, and the perpetual blanket of clouds smothering Seattle. It was a beautiful city once upon a time, Kaoru had to guess. She recalled seeing old texts as a child that painted such a picture. Now in 2074 there wasn’t much that Kaoru would call charming about the metropolis. To see anything but gargantuan buildings and gray one had to drive for miles upon miles…and then drive some more.

                The apartment door locked itself behind her and automatically turned its alarm back on. This wasn’t a bolt hole or some safe house, and she didn’t do undercover runs like Rue so there was no need for a false residence. No, this apartment belonged to her, and no one had ever seen the inside of it but Kaoru.

                She knew where Rue lived. In fact, Kaoru made it her business to know where all of her contacts lived. Maybe that was paranoia, but she preferred to think of it as caution. If somebody tried to burn her, she’d turn around and hit them where it hurt the worst. Kaoru was picky about who she associated with, and didn’t take betrayal lightly. She’d made that mistake once. Never again.

                In the bedroom she stripped off her jacket, the midnight blue garment with the princess seams that she liked to think made her look a little bit taller, discreetly armored to prevent an untimely demise from a stray bullet, and started the arduous task of stripping off weapons. She wasn’t a gunslinger, not really—Kaoru preferred her weapons long, sharp, and pointy—but she wasn’t stupid. A cropped riding jacket wasn’t really going to conceal two giant fucking katanas strapped to her back, and when she was walking around in the daytime it was better not to attract attention. The last thing she needed was Lonestar on her tail wondering why cute little ‘Naoko Ito’ was walking around armed to the teeth on her shopping venture. So she dropped her Hammerli on the bed, the extra clip following, and then started with the knives.

                After locking everything up, Kaoru pulled off her riding boots. Her mother would have been appalled, but she’d given up her traditional mannerisms a long time ago. The Japanese were regular features on that side of the globe those days, but still she didn’t want people thinking she was _with them_. Kaoru’s mom may have been Japanese through and through, but her father was a foreigner, a white man…and they had never let Kaoru forget it, sneering out the word ‘gaijin’ in the halls of the prep school that they’d had to bribe the official to get into in the first place.

                Her real name was Kaoru Hayes, but she’d gone by her mother’s maiden name, Kato, since she was twelve—though for a brief time she’d been Kaoru Yee. It was safer to go by her mother’s surname. It was less recognizable than a Japanese woman with an American last name. It wouldn’t take much to put two and two together after that.

 At seventeen she’d come to North America by way of the Filipino elves. They’d owed her mother a favor and more than paid their debt. Kaoru hadn’t contacted them in ten years, and they were probably glad to be done with the association.

The West had been good to her. She’d refined her skills, and made a decent living shadowrunning, and step by step she grew closer to the inevitable end.

Kaoru hit play on her vidphone, which was kindly informing her that she had several messages.

“Hoi, Kaoru!” Rue’s cheerful voice rang out. There was a shuffle and then her head popped up over the edge of the desk, her artfully arranged up-do of dyed, cherry red curls showing up a couple inches before she did. In all the brilliant curls there were strands of iridescent implants, as glaringly false as her hair color. If it weren’t for her addiction to hair dye, Rue had the kind of beauty that not only attracted people, but made her likable. Her face was round with large, green bedroom eyes, and a cherubic smile to match. A thin, white scar bisected one eyebrow, marring the soft perfection of her Renaissance beauty, like Psyche had taken a stroll amongst the modern world. It somehow made her look more real. “You will not believe the job I have for you! Only thing is it’s definitely a team sort of deal. None of your lone wolf I-am-woman-hear-me-roar bullshit, you got me? Call me for deets. I need to hear from you tomorrow at the latest though. This thing has a timeline, and if you’re not going to jump on it then I’ve got to slip it to somebody else.”

She hit the call back, and was pleased when Rue picked up on the second ring saying, “Hoi there, Callahan Shipping. How can I help you?” without even looking at the screen. Then her green eyes came up, narrowing as Kaoru’s lips twitched in the barest hint of a laugh. “Shut up,” Rue stated.

“I haven’t said a word,” Kaoru drawled.

“I can see what you’re thinking. You forget I’ve worked with you for years now, _Nanashi_.”

Rolling her eyes, Kaoru muttered as she always did, “Please don’t call me that.”

“It is rather silly, isn’t it?” Rue replied lightly, a hint of airy superiority in her tone.

“Yes,” Kaoru gritted her teeth. “The American penchant for street names is quite annoying. I’m not a tights-wearing superhero; I do not need a vigilante nickname.”

“Apparently you do,” Rue teased her in reference to the fact that Kaoru had been named by a Fixer after pulling off a few jobs anonymously. He’d said, ‘they have to call you something.’ To which Kaoru replied, ‘no, they don’t.’ That was before she’d met Rue, who had proved to be more reliable and have better connections than the previous Fixer.

Growing annoyed, Kaoru slid into a chair at the breakfast counter, and growled, “So what’s this job?”

“Oh, yes,” Rue murmured as she was reminding of the task at hand, “The job is, well, it’s a little squicky, not gonna lie. However, the client is high-ranking yakuza, which I know you will be all over like white on rice.”

Kaoru made an impatient wheeling gesture with her finger, urging the redhead to get on with it.

“Okay, okay,” she muttered, “Apparently his wife took off on him, took their kids and everything. Boom, outta there. He wants them back. Only he can’t get them back because they’re holed up here in Shiawase housing under the protection of her family.”

Truthfully, Kaoru hated yakuza. They were pests in her mind, a plague of locusts upon the world. The only reason she took jobs from them was because it ingratiated them to her, growing her contacts within the organization more and more. Eventually she’d make her way to the top, the untouchable pinnacle of the organization, and then…

Shaking herself out of those thoughts lest they begin to show on her face, Kaoru focused on the job itself. “So basically I have to break into Shiawase.”

“Yep,” Rue agreed. She had a pen in her hand, something ridiculous and girly with a long purple feather on top, and was subconsciously running it over her cheek.

Kaoru thought it was just too quintessentially Rue, like an awkward fairytale. “That… You’re right, that is not a solo job.” She tried to get her mind to refocus.

“Nope.”

A plan was already coming together in her mind. Kaoru smiled. If she could get him on board with it, they’d be golden. “Give me ‘til tomorrow,” she told Rue, “I’ve got to see if I can put together a team.”

With a stern look in her seaglass eyes, Rue said, “You have until noon. If I don’t hear from you then, I’m taking it to somebody else.”

Kaoru nodded and made a small, subconscious bow. “Noon. Ja mata ne.”

“Ja ne.”

The transmission was ended, and Kaoru spent a moment tapping her nails on the counter top. She was loathe to do this, to place the next call, but it had to done. If she showed up on his doorstep she’d probably get her head shot off. That wasn’t exactly ideal. Five minutes later she’d finally overcome her reluctance, and subconsciously straightened herself before the receiver was picked up.

The elf who picked up the vidphone looked stern and implacable, but there was a devious twinkle in his eye that belied the firm set of his mouth. There was no room for argument when all he said was, “Come over.”

_Shit_ , Kaoru thought.

\---

Kaoru struggled out of bed from the python-like hold of his arms and legs, a feeling of disappointed resignation taking over the post-coital glow that lingered in her limbs.

It wasn’t that Aiden was a bad lover, far from it actually. It was just annoying how he was capable of giving her a certain look, and the next thing she knew she was on her back (or knees, or the kitchen counter, or in the shower, or contorted into some other odd position or location) moaning like a bitch in heat. That, and the smug look on his face afterwards like he’d just managed to get one up on her was infuriating.

She sneered at the laconic elf as he stretched out in bed, displaying his lanky muscles. Aiden was pale like herself, but with a shock of white-blond hair that he had a tendency to do in lazy spikes, leaving his pointed ears bare. His eyes were a vibrant blue that in the right lighting looked almost violet. He was incredibly handsome, which probably explained her unfortunate tendency of falling into bed with him.

Pulling on her jeans with stiff, economic movements, Kaoru got down to business. “So there’s a run I want to pull. It’s for a yakuza guy, so you know the pay is good.”

Aiden was all about the nuyen. Not that she minded. People like that were rather predictable.

“Mm?” Aiden made a small questioning noise, turning over on the mattress. The sheet over his hips slipped precariously lower, revealing the beginning of his slightly darker pubic hair.

She jerked her eyes away, focusing on a graffiti poster he had tacked up in one corner of the room. Taking his wordless inquiry as permission to continue, Kaoru elaborated. “We’d have to break into Shiawase company housing. It’s a retrieval. A woman and two children.”

“So,” the mage drawled, “You’d need me for distraction and possible manipulation, and my hacker friend for the systems, a get-away driver, and another enforcer. I know a street sam who might be down for earning some nuyen. Hm, so remind me again why I need you?”

“Because it’s my job,” Kaoru stated coldly as she snapped her bra back in place, “And if you try to cut me out, I will hurt you very badly. I may even cut off your favorite body part.” Tugging her t-shirt over her head, she quirked an eyebrow at the elf.

With a cocky grin, Aiden replied, “Your favorite part too.”

“Infinitely better than your vocal chords,” she agreed breezily, shrugging back into her dark blue jacket.

With a sigh, the tall man slipped off of the bed and started walking toward his vidphone. “You really need to get a runner team of your own, Kaoru, so you quit borrowing mine.”

Rolling her eyes, she shot back, “Yes, but then I won’t have occasion enough to sex you up.”

At that the elven mage paused, a slight pout appearing in his plump lower lip. “True. I would miss your—“At her glare and the low, rumbling growl she released into the air, Aiden changed what he was going to say, finishing with, “— _charms_.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaving no doubt as to what he was referring.

She wasn’t as annoyed as she was pretending to be, and that annoyed her even more. “What are you doing?” Kaoru hissed when he began bringing up his call list.

“Making phone calls,” he replied in his best ‘duh’ tone.

“At least put some pants on!” she nearly shouted.

“Oh, like they don’t already know we’re fucking,” Aiden grumbled, but he walked back to the bed and found his crumpled jeans on the floor. He even put on a shirt without having to be told.

\---

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

The Fearful Symmetry

Part Two

 

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairing: OFC/OMC

Rating: M

Warning: questionable moral/ethical choices, violence

Archive: Ask

 

Author: Lily Zen

\---

Notes: Oh yeah!!! So this fic was written for Maven Alysse, for our 2011 Christmas Fic Exchange. However, it’s sort of taken on a life of its own.

Disclaimer: Not mine. But it kinda is. It’s complicated.

\---

 

A day later after haggling the price via Rue, Kaoru was holed up in Aiden’s safe house waiting for the other members of the team to arrive for a strategy session. She was reclined on the fluffy, deep-set brown couch, feeling a little like an infant since her feet didn’t touch the ground. There was such a thing as too short, she felt, and Kaoru definitely qualified, topping out just a hairsbreadth over five-foot-four. Unfortunately, she hadn’t inherited very many of her father’s Caucasoid features. Her eyes weren’t quite as slanted as some, and she’d been born with the white tendency toward the double-eyelid. They were still brown and almond shaped, surrounded with thick, dark lashes. She was petite, though not quite as fragile looking as some Asian women, with a body hardened from years of training. Her hair was long and dark, an inky black waterfall that stopped at her waist. It was vain to keep such a mane, she knew, but sentimentality kept her from cutting it, remembering how her mother used to brush her hair every night before bed. It was like it was the last living link to a dead past.

She felt Aiden creep up behind her, and he nuzzled her silky hair over the back of the couch, nosing his way to her neck where he kissed her just over her pulse. It was chaste and there was no one around to witness it, which was why she let it slide with only a wave of her hand. As he stepped back, his earrings caught a little on her hair and tugged.

“You look like a little doll,” Aiden commented, his tenor husky with sexual interest as he flopped on the other end of the couch with a bag of chips.

He was ripping open the bag when Kaoru shot back at him, “This ‘little doll’ can and will make you eat pavement.”

“I know!” he laughed, “You’ve done it before. It’s one of the things I like about you.” Aiden wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“You like getting your ass beat? That explains so much,” she commented idly, reaching out and digging in the bag for a handful of greasy, salty snack.

His answering grin was devilish, and he looked like he was about to retort when the door buzzed, announcing the arrival of one of his team.

Kaoru stood up as Aiden went to answer the door, his lightweight combat boots not quite making as much noise as she anticipated they should. He had a hand on his Predator ready for action should his guest not be whom he was expecting. Kaoru fingered her sandalwood prayer beads, wrapped several times around her left wrist. The necklace was a foci, painstakingly using what little magical gift she possessed to spell the individual beads. Each one was possessed of some tiny marking indicating what kind of spell it held, though she no longer needed to look at the homemade code to tell which was which. She knew by feel and by undefinable sixth sense which spell was where on the bead strand.

As far as magic users went, Kaoru wasn’t great. She wasn’t terrible either. However, she’d been born with the gift to walk two paths, the path of the adept and the path of the shaman. For practical purposes, Kaoru had focused most of her energy into learning the way of the adept, garnering enough skill as a shaman to get by, though she worked at it more and more each day. In a fight based on pure magical talent, Kaoru wasn’t sure she’d win, but luckily she didn’t have to take that chance.

Aiden looked on the screen that showed whomever was planted on his doorstep, and then opened the thing with a whoosh. “Buddy!” he called, pulling his hand away from the Predator’s handle, and sweeping the man outside into a hard hug, one of those one-armed, manly, pat-the-back-harder-than-necessary types. The other man clapped Aiden on the back, and cried, “What’s up, Die?”

Dropping her tense stance, Kaoru stifled a laugh. Street names again. Hilarious. Die was actually in reference toward Aiden’s penchant for dice games, but nobody needed to know that. It was much more menacing if people thought it was about his battle prowess.

They men dropped their arms and stepped back, and Gidget or Digits or whatever the hell his nickname was walked into the room. He smiled boyishly when he saw Kaoru and waved casually. “Hey, Nanashi.”

She rolled her eyes, and drawled, “Hey.”

Behind him followed Aiden’s preferred rigger to work with, and they exchanged a friendly handshake as he walked in the room. Sharkey, and if he had another name, Kaoru had never heard it, was quiet, competent, and non-descript. His hair was brown—not red-brown or blondish-brown or chocolate; just brown—and kept in a neatly trimmed corper-cut, short on the bottom with a little length up top. His goatee was kept trimmed with the same precision. Sharkey’s eyes were just as brown as his hair, and he had the pasty skin of a man who’d lived under Seattle cloud-cover his whole life. As one might expect, Sharkey was neither tall nor short, fat nor slim; he wore khaki cargo pants and a hunter green jacket lined with the same kind of armor Kaoru had in her favorite blue leather coat. He could have been anyone.

Gidget or Digits was pretty much the opposite. Simply put, he was adorable. He had shaggy hair that alternated between shades of blue and his natural nearly-black hair, creating a look like a wave pool at night, and equally blue eyes. He was small for a man, only a couple inches taller than Kaoru, and had a perpetual look of innocence that was dimmed only slightly by the scraggly soul patch on his chin. He also happened to be one of the best hackers she knew. Okay, he was the best hacker she knew. Okay, she was anti-social and didn’t know a lot of hackers.

Underneath his black duster she knew that Gidget or Digits (she was really going to have to resolve that confusion quickly) was armed to the teeth. He had the look of a victim, an easy target, like her, so he was always prepared for a fight, for some ganger to catch sight of him and think maybe they ought to take a crack at him. In fact, it was almost impossible to tell that he was an orc. Gidget’s eyeteeth were rather petite, able to hide behind his lips, and his long, shaggy hair covered up his slightly pointed ears. The hacker could pass for a human if he wanted to, which did help in certain parts of town where the gangs had racist ties.

“So,” the cheerful orc began, “We’re gonna break into Shiawase?”

With an artless shrug, Kaoru replied, “Just this branch. It’s not like we’re going to try and sneak into the world headquarters. That would be stupid.” She flopped back down on the couch, and watched as the hacker dropped into a springy armchair, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

The buzzer sounded again.

Sharkey acknowledged Kaoru with a slight smile and went to lean against the far wall.

Aiden, who hadn’t even gotten the chance to sit down, let the newcomer in.

“Hey,” the guy gruffed as he stepped in. Kaoru took in his cybernetic arm, and the arsenal strapped on his person, and made the next logical leap that this was the street samurai Aiden had mentioned.

“Hey, man,” Aiden greeted as he closed and locked the door back up. “Been awhile.”

The man was tall, standing even higher than Aiden, who was six-foot-two (a little short for an elf, but then Kaoru was okay with that; any taller and she’d have to get a step-stool to kiss him). His head was shaved, making his dark skinned facial features even more intimidating and stern.  A body of rock solid muscle backed up the promise in his gaze that he’d kill a person just as soon as look at them.

Digits stood up, grinning wildly. “Hey, Vulture! What’s up, man? Haven’t seen you in forever.” The orc practically hopped over to the big guy, and they did some secret handshake thing that Kaoru saw variations of all over the place but had never mastered. Shaking hands was a Western thing. She could do the standard handshake; it was actually pretty good, a nice firm grip, the appropriate amount of contact before releasing. But the many street variations confused her. In any case, a part of her still preferred bowing.

“Gizmo,” the larger man rumbled out, his voice a bass growl of rocks coming down a hillside.

Ah-ha! Kaoru thought. Mystery solved.

His gaze landing on her prompted her to get up off of the couch. There was a sense of instability, potential to explode in his eyes. She didn’t like that. Kaoru didn’t like anything unpredictable. If she couldn’t control it, she generally didn’t want it around her. That was the main reason she worked alone. Surrounding herself with a team was like surrounding oneself with unknown variables. Each person was an added complication just waiting for the right set of circumstances to trigger it. This sammy, Vulture, was definitely someone she was going to handle with caution until she could get a good sense of who he was.

“Who’s the slitch?”

Fuck caution, she thought an instant before her fist plowed into his stomach. Without any time to tense up, his stomach took the full brunt of the impact. Kaoru caught a glimpse of Aiden’s wide eyes as she sprang away from the enhanced fist that was coming her way.

“Whoa!” Gizmo shouted and scrambled out of the way as Kaoru fell back, seeking open ground. She reached for her belt as Vulture unholstered his gun.

The street sam shouted at Aiden, “What the fuck? Control your skank!” Muzzle found target as Kaoru unhooked the twin hunting knives from her belt, glad that she’d worn them. The seven inch serrated blades didn’t glint in the light; they absorbed it, their matte black surfaces a threat all on their own. She went after him, jumping onto the coffee table and taking a leap at him. He fired, but his aim was off, winging her armored jacket just above her shoulder.

Aiden was shouting, running for them, his face whiter than usual. “Kaoru! Ka! Cut it the fuck out!” He didn’t understand, and Kaoru didn’t have time to explain it to him. She wasn’t trying to kill Vulture; she was asserting her authority over him. The street samurai had taken one look at her and dismissed her. If he was going to work on her run, he was going to have to take orders from her. She wasn’t going to be reduced to having Aiden work as a go-between because Vulture was a misogynist.

Kaoru used one knife to catch his gun, pitting her will against his cybernetics, feeling her muscles strain as she shifted his arm through the air, pointing that devastating weapon away from her. With her other hand, she caught him up under the chin as she pushed off on the edge of the solid table, planting her knees on his chest and using gravity and her own body weight to send them both to the ground.

With his breath knocked out of him, and his gun arm pinned beneath her as he temporarily lost strength, Kaoru leaned until she was a hairsbreadth from his face and growled, “You ever call me a slitch again, I’ll slit your fucking throat. We clear, razor?” Up until that point, it was only due to expert control of her movements that her blade hadn’t sunk into his vulnerable throat. At her words, she allowed the slightest increase in pressure to occur. A thin, red line appeared, stark against the dark surface of her weapon, and a bead rolled down the side of his dark skin.

The sammy didn’t even swallow lest he inadvertently cut his own self wide open. His eyes, such a dark brown that they appeared as lightless voids in his face, regarded her with more caution and grudging respect.

Kaoru let up on his neck, and Vulture husked at her, “We’re clear.”

“Good,” she purred, her voice utterly cold, emotionless as a bitter Arctic wind, “Because I won’t repeat myself.” At that, Kaoru gracefully uncurled herself from where she was slowly crushing his chest with her knees—she might have broken a rib or two, but wasn’t sure—and stepped away warily. She did not sheathe her knives just in case Vulture thought he’d get back a little bit of his dignity by trying to tangle with her again.

Aiden stepped in front of her to offer Vulture a hand up, obviously trying to shield her without wanting to make it look like he was doing so lest he insult her pride. Kaoru appreciated his attempt at subtlety but wondered if he really thought she didn’t know what he was doing.

Or maybe she’d gotten it wrong, and he was attempting to shield Vulture from her? Whatever, somebody was being shielded. It didn’t matter who, not really.

Gizmo eyed her from behind the couch, where he’d dived when shit hit the fan. “Jesus,” he whispered, “I thought this was a safe house. Lady, remind me never to get on your bad side.”

As Aiden helped Vulture to his feet, she stated quietly, “I don’t think you’ll need the reminder after this.”

Sharkey, Kaoru noted, hadn’t even flinched. He was still leaning casually up against the wall. With an utterly bland face, he turned, letting his gaze rest pointedly on the hole in the sheetrock a mere five feet to the right of his shoulders. When he directed his eyes back on hers there seemed to be the faintest flicker of amusement there, as though he was saying, ‘Poor aim.’

She smiled, the expression fierce and entertained, lit up with the buzz of adrenalin. There was a reason she liked Sharkey.

Vulture eyed her over Aiden’s shoulder, and the nod he gave her was one of, if not acceptance, then understanding. They had established where she stood in this pecking order. It was the same concept as picking a fight with the biggest bad-ass on the cell block in prison.

“This,” Aiden began, nodding over his shoulder toward her, “is Nanashi.”

Vulture’s eyebrows went up, and he looked her over appraisingly. “You pulled the CryoLab job last year.”

She tipped her head in acknowledgement.

“Tough one,” Vulture commented idly.

“Not if you know what you’re doing,” Nanashi returned, her voice clipped and matter of fact.

Gizmo cautiously walked back around the sofa after Vulture flashed a quick, white-toothed grin at her. He shrugged off Aiden’s grasp and lumbered over, taking a seat in one of the armchairs. Gizmo collapsed into the other one wearily, wondering, “Hey, Die, you got a beer? Think I might need one after that static.”

The tension in the room dissipated as Aiden grinned, and Vulture started guffawing. Gizmo joined in a half a beat later with his own helpless chuckles. Even Sharkey let a smile slip.

Kaoru surveyed them all wondering what the hell they were laughing about. She rolled her eyes, sheathing her knives, and vaulted herself over the back of the couch, landing crouched on the seat cushion. She sat on the arm, not quite able to let go of her inner tension with the same ease the men displayed.

“So,” Aiden drawled, “Let’s talk business, yeah? Nanashi?”

She took it as the neon-lit hint it was, clearing her throat, and beginning to lay out the job for them and the plan she’d already half-formulated. There was some nodding, and some questions, but overall it went pretty well. The beer was eventually brought out, and the four of them worked into the early hours of the morning, tweaking and smoothing things out until Kaoru felt they had a plan they’d all be able to work with, and something that would go off without a hitch. By the time the guys left at four am, and she and Aiden fell into bed, she was feeling pretty confident.

That, of course, should have been her first clue that it was all going to go to hell.

\---

After days of intensive preparation, it was hours before the job was supposed to go down that Kaoru bore witness to the first pebble in a fuck-my-life avalanche. She was in the shower when her vidphone chimed, and turned the water off, grabbing a towel off the rack to go answer it. That close to the deadline it was important to keep a handle on everything. Plus she had that odd, niggling feeling in her gut that was telling her this call was important.

“Moshi moshi,” she answered out of habit.

Aiden’s face appeared on the screen, but instead of leering at her terry-wrapped contours he looked unaccountably serious. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What?”

“Vulture’s in the hospital.”

“What?!”

“He was attacked last night. Nobody’s saying anything, but you know how it is, how he is. He probably mouthed off and pissed off the one person he shouldn’t have.”

“What do you mean? I was right here the whole time,” Kaoru deadpanned. Okay, so she shouldn’t have been cracking jokes at someone else’s expense, but it was just too good an opening to resist.

Aiden’s lips twitched upwards and for a moment she saw mirth dancing in his gaze. Then he shook his head, bringing his mind back to task almost, and stated, “The problem isn’t that he’s in the hospital, it’s that I’ve got nobody to replace him. All my contacts are either engaged elsewhere or out of commission. Kaoru…we may have to pull out.”

Her mouth compressed into a thin, angry line. “No,” she hissed, “There is no backing out.” I need this. “Give me a couple hours. I’ve got some calls to make.” Kaoru slapped the end transmission button before he could respond, and raced back to her room to tug on some clothes. She had a favor to cash in.

\---

**TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

The Fearful Symmetry

Part Three

 

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairing: OFC/OMC

Rating: M

Warning: questionable moral/ethical choices, violence

Archive: Ask

 

Author: Lily Zen

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Notes: Things begin to pick up pace.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Kind of.

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Rue’s line was busy, so Kaoru ended up driving down to Callahan Shipping on the back of her Mirage. She walked where she could and took a lot of public transport, so the bike didn’t get to see the light of day too often. Most of the time Kaoru considered it too flashy since it was one of the go-gang bikes of choice. Its shiny black contours, sleek and minimalist like a slung arrow, had a tendency to draw curious gazes, wondering if she was about to show up with the rest of her gutter-trash companions and rob the Stuffer Shack she’d just walked into. However, this was an emergency, and for emergencies she didn’t mind drawing a couple stares.

Kaoru weaved in and out of congested traffic, racing for the waterfront and the old docks. Callahan Shipping was in an older warehouse that was none the less in good condition. Rue believed appearances were important. She pulled up to the huge, open docking bay, and yelled to one of the workers, “Is Rue in? I need to see her!”

The middle-aged man with his graying salt-and-pepper hair and equally speckled beard waved her in. She parked inside the building over by a stack of moving pallets, kicking the stand into place, and killing off the idling engine rumbling between her legs. The man in the flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up onto his elbows stalked over, his heavy motorcycle boots making loud scuffing sounds on the poured concrete floor. Kaoru swung off of her bike to greet him, saying, “Hey, Jim. How’s it going?”

“Pretty good,” the older man replied, his deep bass growl a contrast to his friendly words.

“Is Rue in her office?” she wondered.

Jim nodded, his deep set eyes serious. “Be quiet though. She might be on a call.”

Kaoru made a gesture of acknowledgement with her hand, and followed it up by saying, “Noted. Thanks, Jim. Watch my bike?”

He grinned. “One of these days you gotta let me take it for a spin.”

Laughing, she wondered, “Now why would a HOG man like you want to ride my little crotch-rocket?”

Bushy eyebrows shot up, and the leer on his face was unmistakable even with his bushy beard attempting to obscure it. “You really need to ask?”

At that, Kaoru let out a sharp crack of laughter, and shook her head. “You’re a tease, Jim, but so not worth it. Your wife would come after me, and I’d lay money on her gutting the slitch that dared to try and poach you.” She turned away still chuckling, and headed for the walkway that would lead to the back of the building and Rue’s cushy, insulated office. Over her shoulder she heard Jim call back jokingly, “Aw, now you know all I want is one ride. I’m not talking lifetime commitment here.” Her laughter floated back to him as she disappeared between stacked merchandise, some legal, some not, and hunted down the door to Rue’s arena.

It was a simple door, solid wood—real wood—with a simple plaque on it that read ‘R. Callahan,’ and underneath in smaller print, ‘Manager.’ Kaoru quietly tried the knob, and upon finding it unlocked, she stepped into the room. Immediately she was assaulted with the sound of Rue’s voice, that light, musical tone now saturated with annoyance. Under the influence of strong emotion, her voice began to drop its studied Midwestern blandness and slide into the honeyed Southern tones of her childhood. “Sir, ah cannot give you somethin’ that is not in mah power to provide. All of mah employees are currently occupied. Ah can give you the name of someone else who may fulfill your order, but ah cannot snap my fingers and magically provide more employees here. Now, if you were willing to wait a few days I could—“  Rue plucked her earpiece off of her ear and held it away from her, glaring at the little device like she was wishing fervently it would just melt away.

Whoever was on the line was yelling so loudly that Kaoru heard him from across the room. She shared a sympathetic look with Rue an instant before the woman held her earpiece marginally closer to her and shouted, “Now, sir, that is quite enough! If you ever want to do business with Callahan Shipping and its sub-contractors again, ah suggest you curb your language! Ah do not know how your mama raised you, but ah sincerely doubt she tolerated such a spiked-tongue, and ah certainly will not! When you are ready to talk like adults, you may call me back.” At that, Rue hit the tiny button that disconnected the call, and tossed the earpiece onto her desktop. “Fucker.”

She rubbed her exquisitely manicured hands over her face, avoiding her artful eye make-up, and then turned seaglass colored eyes onto Kaoru, who was quietly leaning up against the door. “Well, sit down,” Rue snapped, flicking her wrist at the chairs clustered in front of her big, antique mahogany desk.

Lips twitching as she tried not to grin, Kaoru pushed off the door and glided across the plush Aubusson rug, its woven curlicues and intricate bunches of flowers a subtle reminder of just how good Rue was at her job. Like most Fixers, Rue dabbled in other areas. Her shipping business was an actual imports and exports business, using legal trade to cover up her not so legal smuggling. Back in her wilder youth, Rue had also been a shadowrunner, and was particularly successful at playing the role of Face. She had a natural charisma that she’d enhanced with pheromones, and a way of instinctively blending into different social situations. Once she’d figured out that she could use her natural gifts with people in more lucrative and less risky venues, Rue retired from running herself and entered into the world where she truly shined: negotiations. It had proven profitable for her. Already, at a mere thirty years, Rue was practically living in the lap of luxury.

Kaoru settled down into a soft, cream colored chair whose cushions sighed in welcome as they sank beneath her weight. It was a clever tactic on Rue’s part, getting her clients to relax back in those comfortable chairs so that their eyes were half-mast as Rue subtly robbed them of every penny she could. That was why she liked working with the woman; Rue was every bit as ruthless in business as Kaoru was on a run. There was something infinitely reassuring in knowing that her jobs were coming from someone who was just as much a shark in the water as she. After all, the more money Kaoru made, the more money Rue made.

Rue took a few deep breaths, closing her eyes to concentrate on reeling back her emotions. She rolled across the floor in her office chair to the minibar she kept stocked, reaching inside the tiny freezer for a tray of ice cubes. A few cubes were dropped into two lowball glasses, and from a crystal decanter she poured two fingers of some kind of clear liquid. Then upon second thought, she added another finger to one of the glasses.

The Fixer rolled back to her desk with a glass in either hand, and slid the one with less liquid in it over to Kaoru.

The Japanese woman arched an eyebrow as she wondered, “What is it?”

“Vodka,” Rue replied, and swirled the ice in her glass.

Kaoru took a cautious sniff. It had been awhile since she’d indulged in anything apart from cheap beer, and she asked, “Real vodka?”

With a grin, Rue told her, “Goes down smooth and with enough after-burn to kick you in the teeth.”

Shrugging mentally, Kaoru raised her glass, murmuring, “Kanpai.”

“Kanpai,” Rue chorused after her, and clinked her glass against the shadowrunner’s. They drank the bitter alcohol all at once, and Rue set down her heavy glass with a bang.

Kaoru followed her example with less fanfare, and laced her fingers together across her lap.

“So what can I do for you?” Rue queried, tilting her head slightly. The iridescent extensions in her hair threw off little rainbows on the wall; Kaoru suppressed a smile. Rue’s accent had vanished with the receding tides of anger, leaving her voice utterly bland. Still, there was a softness, a musicality to it that most Midwesterners lacked; it was that thread of otherness that made her such a pleasure to listen to. Coupled with her strange fairytale hair, strands of iridescence lost amidst a sea of maraschino cherry red, all looped up on her head in some modern take on ancient opulence, she looked a little like the fairies inscribed on t-shirts at the goth kid store in the mall.

Redirecting her thoughts to focus on the immediate quandary, Kaoru stated baldly, “I need your help.”

Rue quirked her eyebrow, the one with the little white scar bisecting it, and countered with, “It must be dire if you’re actually using the word ‘help’ in a sentence.”

Sighing, Kaoru admitted, “It’s pretty bad. The Shiawase job is going down tonight, and my street sammy got picked up by Doc Wagon last night for brawling. He’s still in intensive care. I’m down a man, which is not good. I skimmed on the crew as it was. You know I hate working with a team.”

“So now you’re up a creek without a paddle,” Rue finished. She sighed and drilled her nails on the blotter. “Look, I don’t know how much of that phone conversation you caught, but the deal is this: I don’t have anybody I can recommend to you. All my runners are on jobs, in the morgue, or doing time. There’s nobody else.”

“Come on, Rue,” Kaoru wheedled, “There’s got to be somebody. It’s not rocket science. I just need someone who can scoop up a kid.” When Rue shot her a long-suffering look and began to open her mouth, the adept put in, “You owe me one. Remember that time I swam through marshmallow fluff?”

With another gusty exhalation, the redhead exclaimed, “What do you want me to do, Kaoru? Come out of retirement? I’m the only runner I know who’s not already engaged.”

Glancing up at the ceiling, Kaoru thought about that for a second. If she just tweaked this, and that…then…yes, that would work. That would work rather nicely. A slow smile began to spread on her face.

“Oh no,” Rue began adamantly, “I am done with that craziness. Done. You hear me?”

Kaoru already heard the slight waver in her resolve, and knew it was just a matter of finding the right button to push to make Rue cave in.

Ten minutes later, the redhead capitulated with a sigh and a muttered, “Now you’re gonna owe me.”

“Fine,” Kaoru agreed.

“Dancing.”

“What?” The Asian woman’s nose wrinkled as she drew back.

“You fucking heard me. You’ve been dodging me for months. We’re getting all dolled up, going out to a club, and you are going to help me wrangle some quality cock. You’re single, I’m single; let’s tear this city a new one.” Rue crossed her arms over her chest and stared Kaoru down.

Kaoru had nothing to say except, “Hai?”

\---

After they got everybody up to speed on the new plan, night had fallen. They left for Shiawase’s Seattle HQ, deep in the heart of downtown surrounded by other towering buildings, its soft blue lights highlighting the glossy planes and reflecting on some of its neighbors. Kaoru, Rue, and Aiden took their bikes. Rue rode behind Aiden, and raised her eyebrows at Kaoru, mouthing, ‘Nice!’ Kaoru suppressed a grin. They parked a few blocks away in a public garage. Gizmo cheerfully agreed to hack into the system when they picked up their bikes later to wipe away their debt to the garage.

Comms on, they surveyed the skyline and waited for the signal that Gizmo was in place and ready to rock.

Rue tugged on her securely fastened brunette wig. Her eyes has been temporarily altered to look slanted through the use of a little tape and some make-up, to match the fake ID badge that she and Gizmo had cooked up earlier. The fashionista was dressed plainly for her in an armored pant-suit and sensible black flats for her to run in. Underneath the strategic cut of her coat was a tazer strapped to her waist. Once she met Kaoru on the inside, she’d add a light pistol, tranq gun, and a back-up knife to her arsenal. They were trying to keep this a strict retrieval mission, no lives taken unless necessary, but a good runner was always prepared for any eventuality.

Aiden and Kaoru were using the stealth approach to get into Shiawase. They had five minutes to get to the roof of the building next door while Gizmo kept their security system busy, and then jump onto the roof of Shiawase.

Sharkey’s only job was to maintain vigilance and wait for his cue to raise his borrowed bird, an old Stallion, to meet them for pick-up.

Of course, that was all dependent on whether or not Gizmo got in the building. Kaoru glanced at her watch, and tugged up the collar on the oversized brown coat she wore over the armored black catsuit she preferred and backpack full of supplies. As it hit 0300, Gizmo’s voice crackled to life of the comms. “Approaching entry point.”

\---

Gizmo walked up to the alley exit. The dumpsters nearby stunk like rotting corpse. He swallowed hard against the urge to gag, and tugged down his janitor’s cap. He was wearing Shiawase company coveralls. They’d cost him a pretty penny in bribes, but it was easily balanced out by the amount this job would bring in. He was wheeling a large garbage can with him, which the actual night janitor had wheeled outside earlier and left for him with his building keys. Sometimes it paid off to pay up.

He swiped the janitor’s keycard over the door lock, letting it snap back to the rest of the key ring. The heavy door let out a loud, low buzz, and the lock popped open. Gizmo wheeled the garbage can inside, taking it back to the closet the real janitor had told him to put it in, and pulled out the cart of cleaning supplies. When he didn’t see anybody in the halls, just long stretches of white and beige, he subvocalized, “Move to position A.”

\---

Kaoru and Aiden took a long look at Rue. The Fixer winked at them and said to Kaoru, “Remember, you owe me.”

Nodding, Kaoru followed Aiden to the stairs.

\---

Gizmo left his cart down the hall and was able to crack into the server room in record time. At that time of night, the place was as quiet as a nursery except for the whirr of machines like an infant’s breath.

He had forty-six minutes before security did a sweep of the area again. Setting his commlink to inform him five minutes beforehand, Gizmo settled down in front of the nexus and reached out wirelessly for Pacific Bank’s signal next door. Hacking them was child’s play in comparison to what he was going to have to do to Shiawase’s system. Through his link he told Kaoru and Aiden, “Door’s open. Go.” His AR connection blinked in his eyes, showing him a rather simple OS. Clicking through them, Gizmo found the security settings and sent a message to the cameras to loop the last thirty seconds. He smiled as he saw Aiden and Kaoru enter the abandoned building and hit the up arrow on the elevator.

They got out on the top floor.

Gizmo checked the system as his teammates pounded up the stairs to the roof. The Bank’s firewall had been easy to break through, and it didn’t appear that his entrance had disturbed any IC’s.  That was why he banked in the Caymans, thank you very much. Those Islanders knew what they were doing. Gizmo popped the lock on the roof entrance as Kaoru and Aiden hit the last stair at a jog, and let it lock up again behind them. After a quick scan to verify there wasn’t any roof security, he let the cameras downstairs resume their normal routine. They wouldn’t be leaving the same way they’d came. He sent a quick IM to everybody: “Disengaged from P. Moving to S.”

\---

Kaoru heard the door lock behind them again at the same time she received Gizmo’s IM. She dropped her coat on the roof, and tugged up the black mesh covering that hid the lower half of her face from view. Due to a slight case of claustrophobia, she had never adjusted to wearing full stealth gear. Her armored catsuit was a custom creation, the mask portion connected to the rest through artful seams and held on the bridge of her nose by small pieces of wire boning almost like a miniature corset. Black hair had been brushed severely beforehand, removing all the loose strands, and pulled back in a tight braid that was then waxed into place.

She flexed her gloved hands and stood still as Aiden unzipped her backpack, pulling out the heavy duty crossbow and the stabilizing bolt that would dig its way through six inches of concrete, giving them a steady connection for the rope they were going to use to cross.

Aiden loaded the bolt, and then asked her, “You want to take the shot?”

Shrugging, she replied shortly, “You’re a good enough shot. Just don’t fuck it up.”

The elven mage shot her a droll glance and deadpanned, “Gee, thanks. No pressure or anything.” With a deep breath in and then out, where he held it, the mage took aim at the building next door, slightly shorter than the one they were currently standing on, and pulled the trigger. The bolt released with a powerful fwap and sliced through the air, embedding itself deep in the concrete wall just next to the roof entrance, the black rope sailing through the air behind it like a comet’s tail. The remaining coils of rope lay beneath Kaoru’s foot where she’d casually stepped on it to prevent the remaining yards from accidentally flying away with their bolt. Without comment, she picked it up and walked to the flag pole, winding the rope around it a few times and tying it in a secure knot a few feet up from the ground. It would give them a nice angle for a fast ride down.

\---

While he preferred a wireless interface, Gizmo recognized that the connection would be stronger through a hard line, and therefore faster. Time was of utmost importance. “You should be honored,” he told the computer, “I don’t hook up with just anyone.” Then he jacked into the nexus, switching from AR to the Matrix, and picked the lock on the mainframe.

He heard Aiden report in as though from very far away: “Ready to move to position B. Holding until confirmation.”

The firewall was about as complicated as Gizmo expected, meaning by the time he finally heard the tumblers click there was sweat beading at his hairline in RL. His persona, however, remained cool and unshaken, his strange, bare, three-fingered hands completely adept with the lock picks. His over-large bat-like ears wiggled with joy as the lock sprang, and he walked into Shiawase’s nexus. When no alarms went off, Gizmo sent out the mental command to go to security. The Matrix shuffled around him, the hallway suddenly blurring as the doors moved like the pictures on a slot machine. The security office slammed into focus in front of him, the heavy steel door and its multiple locks indicating a firewall of its own.

He knew time in the Matrix was different from real time, but Gizmo still felt the pressure as he went to work on the system. It didn’t seem to matter how experienced he was, how good he got, he never became immune to the pressure to succeed. Luckily, he was good under pressure. He uploaded one of his own programs, a decryption key that would sneak into the firewall and ferret out the password in record time using the echoes of past data entry. In the VR world basically that meant he was looking at the worn keys on the keypad and deciphering the possible combos. The program quickly filled in the blanks, telling him that six and three were the first and second numbers respectively. After that it was a matter of eliminating all the combinations that didn’t have those two numbers. The second code succeeded, and he stepped into the security room, data and programs represented as old fashioned monitors and keyboards, complete with the security pilot as a fat man in a rent-a-cop uniform munching on a donut. Before he even realized there was an intruder, Gizmo administered a tranq and temporary paralytic to the pilot before it could alert the ICs.

The room clear, his furry persona hopped up into the pilot’s vacated chair. He wiggled his fingers and toes, flexing the six digits on either end, and then started inputting commands into the security system like a maestro conducting an orchestra. First things first, turn off the alarm on the dorm’s roof doorway, and then open the locks.

Another IM went off to Aiden and Kaoru: “Ready. Go.”

He didn’t stop to see if they’d respond, just moved on to the next task, inputting Rue’s false ID into the personnel records.

\---

**TBC…**


End file.
